Same Difference
by cheesecakelover110
Summary: Amity Park. It sounds so quiet, especially compared to New York. How was I supposed to know that I'd fall for three girls simultaneously, befriend my ghostly look-alike, and get caught in some weird feud between man and ghost? I swear, the Universe is out to get me.
1. Chapter 1

"I'm gonna miss this place," I said to the empty room. Old? Yes. Paint peeling? Heck yeah. Smell of mothballs filling the air? You can bet so.

But I was seriously going to miss it all.

"Danny, come on! We don't want to be late for our flight!"

I turned toward the doorway, shouting, "Alright, Mom! Give me one more minute!"

This crappy little room in this crappy little apartment had been home since I could remember; I felt like I was losing some part of me.

"See ya," I sighed, reluctantly turning around.

Maybe it was my imagination, but I could've sworn that someone said, _Bye, Danny._

**\*/**

"Danny, don't act like such a three-year-old," Mom chided as we entered the airport, rolling her violet eyes. "It's a new start! You'll get to make new friends-"

"I had friends back in New York," I interrupted. "We don't _need_ a new start. We were doing just fine."

Mom sighed, her face looking tired. A part of me felt guilty for acting like such a jerk to her, but it was hard to hold back the anger that kept building up in my chest.

I did have friends. Granted, not that many friends, but they were good ones. Dante wouldn't have hesitated to have my back in a fight, and Jaden always found a way to make me laugh, even in my darkest days.

And, again, the apartment. From what Mom told me, we'd lived there since before I was born. Even when Dad died, we hadn't moved. We had memories there. History. And she was willing to just throw it all away.

"Here's your stop, ma'am," the cabbie said. Mom paid him, and we exited from the taxi into the parking lot, pulling our luggage along with us.

As we made our way past the baggage drop and into the actual airport, Mom squeezed my shoulder, trying for a smile at me.

"I know you don't understand now, sweetheart, but it's all for the best."

I turned away from her gaze, afraid that she might get to me and change my mind.

_For_ _the_ _best_. As if.

**\*/**

Mom stepped into the townhouse, taking a long, deep breath as she did so and smiling.

I slid my backpack strap further up my shoulder and ran up the steps, straight into what I assumed would become my room.

I sat on the ground and unzipped my backpack, pulling out my Notebook laptop that I had gotten for Christmas a year ago. Immediately, I IMed Jaden. I was just as close to him as I was Dante, but right then, I needed a good laugh more than anything but my old life back.

**NASAgeek3045: ** Hey. I've finally arrived in the Dump. Wish I was messing around with you guys.

**JadentheLadiesMan: **Danny! D and I are so lonely without your Geekiness! Come back!

**NASAgeek3045: **Wish I could.

**JadentheLadiesMan: **Quick, say something nerdy!

**NASAgeek3045: **Sir Isaac Newton was not, in fact, hit on the head by an apple, but he viewed the apple falling from the tree from his office, which eventually lead to the discovery of gravity.

**JadentheLadiesMan: **Ah, thank God! I felt so SMART with you gone! It feels good to be an idiot.

I chuckled and was about to reply when Mom shouted, "Danny! Come down here!"

I groaned and typed,

**NASAgeek3045: **Gtg. Mom's calling. Talk to you later?

**JadentheLadiesMan: **Later, dude.

I closed the Notebook and shoved it back in my backpack before running down the stairs again.

"Yeah, Mom?"

"We have company," Mom explained with a smile.

I tried not to roll my eyes. The last thing that I needed right then was our new neighbors coming in to give out cookies and neighborly love.

I looked past Mom to an auburn-haired woman who looked about her age. She wore a bright pink dress that, thankfully, didn't show much, diamond studs in her ears, white high-heeled sandals, and bright pink lipstick to match the dress. Her eyes were a lighter shade of blue than mine, and her skin held no blemishes or wrinkles.

Next to her was a girl about my age. She was surprisingly pretty, with amethyst-colored eyes that were thickly outlined with black eyeliner, shiny, chin-length black hair, pale, peach-colored skin, and stained-purple lips. She wore a black tank top with a purple skull on it, a black skirt, purple leggings, and black leather combat boots. Unlike the woman next to her, she didn't look too thrilled to be here.

Mom waved me over and had me shake hands with the woman. "Danny, this is Miss White, our neighbor. Pamela, this is Danny, my son."

The woman- Ms. White- smiled with perfectly straight, white teeth. "Well, isn't he just adorable?"

I fought a scowl at the word _adorable_ and instead nodded, my expression blank. Mom either didn't notice or didn't care.

Ms. White gave the Goth girl a look, and she rolled her eyes, reluctantly holding out her hand. "I'm Sam Manson, her daughter," she said blandly.

I gave her hand a quick shake, and then rested my own hand back into the pocket of my old red hoodie. She didn't seem too happy to have to make contact with another person; I could understand where she was coming from.

"Danny, how about you and Sam go hang out upstairs while Ms. White and I chat?"

Mom glanced at me with a meaningful expression on her face. I sighed, nodded, and gestured for Sam to go first. Hesitantly, she did so.

We sat in awkward silence for a while in the empty room. I ended up pulling out my laptop and searching for either Dante or Jaden to be online, only to be disappointed. I closed my laptop and, finally, broke the silence.

"You don't like being here, do you?" I asked.

Sam glanced at me, and then said in a bored voice, "Wow, how could you tell." Her tone was so flat that it didn't really turn out as a question.

"I don't want to be here, either," I clarified.

"Oh, really. I'd thought that you were bursting with joy. My mistake." Sarcasm oozed from her words.

I rolled my eyes and leaned against the wall, sighing. "No need to be a pain in the neck. I'm just sick of this town already. That's all that I have to say."

Sam, surprisingly, turned to me, her expression still flat. "So why are you here?"

"For a new start," I answered, keeping my opinion about that reasoning to myself.

Sam turned her focus back to the wall ahead of her, not saying anything in reply. I didn't bother trying to bring up another topic either, for two reasons:

Sam either didn't want to talk, or she didn't have any emotion at all, and

I had nothing to say, anyway.

So we were quiet for about twenty more minutes. Then our mothers called us down. Ms. White said good-bye, and Sam left with her, not even glancing back at me.

When Mom closed the door behind them, she sighed, "Well, that was interesting. Pamela is a bit…outspoken."

"You mean she's a total whore?" I asked calmly, sensing Mom's subtext.

Mom gave me a disapproving look. "Well, yes, to be blunt."

I shrugged and turned to go back up the stairs, but she stopped me.

"How was Sam?"

I turned back to her and said in a monotone, "Absolutely joyous."

"So I take it that she wasn't much better than her mother?"

"Oh, no, she wasn't a whore. She was more like an emotionless robot with a pretty face."

Mom smirked, which made me immediately regret that I'd said anything about her looks. "Pretty, eh? Well, I can't disagree with you, there. But it's a shame that she has to grow up with that woman; the poor girl must fall asleep with her mother's voice scolding her in her head."

I shrugged again and ran up the stairs, pulling out my laptop once again. Instead of trying to IM Jaden or Dante, however, I ended up playing a free online game for a couple of hours until Mom called me down again.

"Danny!"

"Yeah!"

"Takeout time!"

"Coming!"

I exited the game and shut the Notebook, running to the door. Mom came, her chin-length copper-colored hair in an incredibly short ponytail, dressed in jeans, a blue Yankees T-shirt, black sneakers, and a thick black hoodie.

She opened the door, and the both of us stepped outside into the cold night air. My breath fogged up in front of me as I raced from the door to the cab that Mom had called.

As I stepped inside after her, I asked, "When are we gonna get our own car?"

Mom thought about it, and then answered, "I guess tomorrow I could rent one. My job doesn't start until Monday, so I'll have time."

I nodded, relieved. I've always hated taxis and cabs. They always gave me this unstable feeling, like I couldn't go anywhere twice without it being different and unpredictable.

Not that I hated anything unpredictable; I just wanted some things to stay the same, you know?

Then I realized, as I glanced at the unfamiliar town passing by me, that honestly, nothing ever stays the same for long. At least, not for me.

**\*/**

That night, as I brushed my teeth and stared into the mirror at the fair-skinned, skinny kid with messy black hair and sky-blue eyes, I decided that maybe Mom was right. Maybe it was time for a new start.

I mean, of course I still didn't want to be here, still wanted to be in New York, still wished that Dante and Jaden were less than a mile away. But there wasn't anything that I could do about it, and I was getting tired of sulking. It wouldn't hurt to open up, at least a little bit.

When I spit and looked back up, my heart froze for a fraction of a second. Behind me, in the shower, it looked like there was a shadow that wasn't mine. I blinked twice; it was still there.

I turned around, my hands shaking. There was nothing there. Even the shadow was gone.

I shook my head and set my toothbrush down. _Just my imagination, _I thought._ There's no way that could've happened in the first place. I'm just a bit weird because of nerves. That's it._

That was it. That was all that there was to it. Just nerves.

Then why did I feel like I wasn't alone?

**A/N: **

**So...should I be doing this?**

**No.**

**But the idea came to me, and now I really like it, and my mind began formulating. So, um, sorry. :D**

**Anyway, SPOILER (if you care, and if you dare): Fenton and Phantom are not the same person. But it's not pitch pearl (blech). More like friendship that gets reaaaaaalllllly complicated.**

**So, for once, this does not focus totally on romance or angst. More like friendship, with a lot of romance (again with OTHER PEOPLE), some angst, and SAAAAVIN THE WUUUULD!**

**Anyway, all in due time. For now, though, I'm trying to pace myself (for once), and you must deal with emotionless Sam, nonexistent Phantom, more annoying than usual Tucker, dead Jack (WHY?! WHY, BRAIN, WHY?!), rational non-scientist Maddie, stern not-related Jazz, cold-shoulder Valerie, etc.**

** Gracias.**

**And please review.**

**:)**


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you sure you don't want to come?"

Mom glanced at me uncertainly, as if maybe I'd changed my mind in the five minutes since she'd asked me last.

"I'm sure," I assured her for the billionth time. I didn't feel like doing much, although neither Jaden or Dante had been online, and it's not like Sam suddenly gained a personality and decided to come over.

Still, boredom was worth putting off meeting anyone else until tomorrow. I mean, I know that I'd resolved to open up a little bit the night before, but that didn't make me any less reluctant to do so. Amity Park was a small town, from what I could tell; if I interacted with more people than necessary, then everyone would know me before I could decide who I'd rather not meet.

As a result, Mom was going to the car rental/ dealership alone, as well as the furniture store, the mattress store, and what Amity called the Stop & Shop, where everyone got their groceries.

I'd stay home and do whatever I pleased in the vast (well, at least compared to our old apartment), empty townhouse. For lunch, I already had a Family sized bag of tomato-garlic flavored chips (can't knock it till you try it), two cans of ginger ale, and two PB and J sandwiches ready in the fridge of the kitchen.

"Alright, then," Mom said cautiously. "I love you, honey."

"Love you, too," I muttered back.

"I'll be back by six. Bye."

"Bye."

She closed the door behind her, and I was finally alone.

**\*/**

I chugged down the last of my ginger ale, and then left my trash on the counter, knowing that we didn't really have a trash can yet.

Glancing at my watch, I determined that Mom wouldn't be home for another two hours. I was already sick of playing games and trying to IM an MIA Dante and Jaden. What would help me kill time?

A nap. Definitely a nap. I was pretty tired, and there's no better way to make two hours fly by.

As I entered my "room", I flopped down to the ground and closed my eyes.

_Ding, dong!_

My eyes opened. Well, there went my nap.

I ran down the stairs and looked through the peephole to see who it was. Yeah, this town was small, but I learned in New York: not everyone's going to be friendly.

Through the peephole, I saw a tall, auburn-haired girl with eyes a lighter blue than mine, pink lip gloss, and a blue headband. Great. More neighbors.

I opened the door and gave her a flat stare. "Fenton residence. What do you want?"

Her gaze snapped from the sky to me. "Oh, hi! I live next door with Sam and Pamela. You've met them, right?"

And _voila_. Another chick from the neighbors' house.

I tried to mask my distaste with politeness, knowing that Mom would kill me if I made a bad first impression. "Oh, yeah, I have. Are you Sam's sister?"

The girl nodded cheerfully. "We're only half sisters, but I consider Sam and I pretty close."

_Close. _Either Sam was bipolar, or this girl was really narrow-minded.

"Oh. Cool," I replied, hoping that the girl couldn't read my thoughts with my face. Mom always says that I'm an open book if you can see my expressions, and especially if you can see my eyes.

I made sure that I was wearing a polite and interested expression before continuing. "So what brings you here?"

Her grin, impossibly, widened. "I'm Jazz. I brought cookies." She raised a white box with a green bow stuck on it.

"Oh, really? You didn't have to."

_Oh, huzzah. Here comes the cookies and neighborly love part._

"It's fine. Mom made them herself, and Sam iced them. They're sugar cookies."

_I'll bet that they're poisonous, and the icing reads "I hate life". Yeah, that sounds about right._

"Cool. I love sugar cookies. Do you want to come inside?" I put on my best plastic smile.

Jazz nodded and stepped over the threshold, looking around. "You guys haven't decorated much, have you?"

I shook my head, this time being honest. "Nah. We just moved in yesterday, and we couldn't afford a moving van and movers to drive all the way from New York. Mom's getting us some stuff right now."

"Ah." Jazz nodded. She set the cookies down on the counter in the kitchen and smiled at me. Like her mother, she had perfectly straight, white teeth. Honestly, she looked like a younger, more relaxed version of her, unlike Sam, who couldn't look any more different from her mother and sister.

"I should get going. I don't want to overstay my welcome. I hope you enjoy them." Jazz smiled once more before walking to the door. "Bye."

"See ya," I said with a wave. She closed the door behind her.

I curiously walked over to the box, and then untied the bow and lifted the lid.

Inside were about two dozen medium-sized sugar cookies, all with black, purple, and green icing. None said anything, which honestly surprised me.

There were three envelopes wedged between one stack of cookies and the side of the box. One read _For Maddie. _Another read _For Danny_; the last one read _For the Fentons. _

I pick up the one that was for me and used my pocketknife to open it.

It said,

_Dear Danny,_

_For the record, Mom's making me do this, so don't think that I give one single crap about you._

_To be honest, however, you seem like a nice guy. Just leave me alone, and I won't hate you. Deal?_

_Sincerely,_

_Sam._

_P.S. When I say leave me alone, I mean don't acknowledge my existence. Thanks._

I sighed and tucked the note into my jeans pocket, picking up a cookie and biting it. Well, that was that. Now all that I had to do was wait for Mom to come home, and we could read the other two notes.

I took another bite of the cookie and realized: it wasn't poisonous. As a matter of fact, it tasted really, really good.

_Well if Ms. White's a total whore, at least she's a whore that can cook._

_And Jazz isn't so bad._

_And all that I have to do to make sure that Sam doesn't hate me is totally ignore her. Pretty sweet deal._

In retrospect, maybe I should have predicted that, as usual, things weren't going to be that simple.

**\*/**

"Danny! Groceries are here!"

My eyes opened at the sound of my name. I stood, popped my neck, and drowsily ran down the stairs, feeling pretty well-rested from my nap.

As I helped Mom put the groceries into the fridge, I noticed the movers carrying our furniture to wherever Mom told them to.

By the time that our newly rented black Chevy pickup truck was unloaded of its groceries, our living room seemed a lot less empty. It now held a pretty large TV (not flat screen and pretty outdated, but fully functional) that rested on an entertainment center next to the fireplace, a brown couch that looked pretty comfortable (again, not new, but decent), a polished wooden coffee table with some coasters, a brown recliner to match the couch, and a round, flat brown rug. I had to admit that Mom had done a pretty good job with picking out the stuff; the brown went well with the off-white walls and beige carpeting.

As the movers continued to bring stuff in, I turned to Mom, who was already heading for the freezer to start dinner.

Figuring that she must've been exhausted, I said, "Mom, you rest for a bit. I'll make us something to eat."

She turned to me, smiled gratefully, and sat down at the newly bought table, newspaper in hand.

I washed my hands, went to the freezer and pulled out a frozen pizza. True, I was capable of making more extravagant things (I'm not an amazing chef, but I know how to make a meal thanks to Mom's old job, which had her falling asleep as soon as she walked into the apartment), but right now pizza sounded really good.

I heated the oven (which had come with the house, as well as the fridge and freezer) and slid the pizza in, grabbing some new ceramic plates and cups, washing them in hot, soapy water, drying them, and setting them on the table.

I opened the fridge, got out the Pepsi, and poured Mom and I a cup each. When the timer rang for the pizza, I pulled it out, set the pan on a hot pad on the table, and divided it into eight fair-sized slices.

I then went to the sink, washed my hands again, and sat down with a relieved sigh, serving myself.

Mom smiled at me. I was really glad that I'd fixed us something, because she looked about as tired as she had when she'd come home in New York.

"Thanks, Danny," she said, pulling a few slices out for herself.

I grinned back. While I don't get why she does some things, I still love my mom, and I try to help out around the house as much as I can. It's always worth the work to be sure that she doesn't have a nervous breakdown or something like that.

Oh yeah, and the thank-you is a huge plus.

**\*/**

Mom and I ended up not reading the other two cards. We were about to, but the moving guys started talking to her about payment and stuff, so I ended up clearing the table, washing the dishes, and heading to my room.

When I walked in there, it seemed pretty standard. There was a twin-sized bed with the mattress already placed on it, a package of sheets and blankets that Mom had bought sitting next to it, a foldable desk with a chair where my laptop was placed, a plastic trash can next to the desk, and a brown wooden dresser next to the tiny, sad excuse for a closet.

I rolled up my sleeping bag, made the bed, and put up the few posters that I'd brought. Most of them were NASA-type stuff, but one was of my favorite band, Dumpty Humpty.

By the time that I finished, it was seven p.m.; I still had tons of time to kill. So I ended up deciding to turn in early.

After a hot shower and a brushing of the teeth, I changed into my pajamas and fell onto my bed.

And then?

I screamed.

**\*/**

**Thanks to the two reviews. ^^**

**Anyway, here's where things get supernatural. And, um, complicated.**

**Danny: You're making ANOTHER ONE?!**

**Me: Oh, you've just realized that?**

**Sam: Actually, this one I approve of. **

**Danny: You're kidding, right?**

**Tucker: WHERE AM ****_I_****?!**

**Me: I swear, Tuck, if you don't stop asking that, I'll personally strangle you. YOU. ARE. COMING. CALM DOWN.**

**Percy: Wait a second. Where am I?**

**Me: My imagination. Get used to it, Seaweed Brain.**

**Annabeth: Obviously, she's a demon. Percy, bring out Riptide.**

**Percy: But I feel fine. And I can remember her name. How is she a demon?**

**Annabeth: Good point….are you a half blood, then?**

**Me: Nope, just a mortal who can see through the Mist. And a fangirl who thinks that you two are an amazingly cute couple.**

**Annabeth: What is with everyone and pushing Percy and I together?**

**Percy: Yeah, the campers back at Half Blood Hill did the same thing…..**

**Me: *facepalm* Oh, wow. You two are the mythological, powerful, intelligent demigod couple. Figure it out yourself. And Annabeth, I never knew that you had a superpower. :D**

**Percy: She has a power, besides being super smart?**

**Me: Yes. She can weave like it's nobody's business.**

**Annabeth: Erm…..yeah. It came in handy with Arachne and the spiders and stuff. **

**Percy: *grins* That. Is freaking awesome. I mean, of course it's not as cool as a pen turning into a sword, or being able to make a hurricane, or breathing underwater, or controlling a boat, or talking to equestrians, or controlling the sea, or-**

**Me: Percy, eave the poor girl alone. She will tear you to pieces with her dagger, and then pour the pieces into a jar with a heart on it. Don't make her kill her boyfriend, Percy. Don't.**

**Annabeth: Thanks, Juli. **

**Sam: Ew, a blonde.**

**Annabeth: *red-faced* **

**Percy: Uh, Annabeth, don't-**

**Annabeth: JUSTBECAUSEIMABLONDEDOESNTME ANIMDUMBANDGIGGLY!**

**Percy: Woo. She almost knifed you, chick. Watch what you say.**

**Max: REPRESENTATION FOR BLONDE GIRLS!**

**Danny, Percy, Fang, Vlad (Tod), August, Tobias, and Tucker: AND BRUNETTE BOYS!**

**Gale: Can I join the brunette boy's club? **

**Brunette Boy's Club: NO!**

**Danny: You're a jerk. Jerks don't get to join.**

**Percy: Same goes for you, Jacob.**

**Jacob: I don't care. I'm a freaking WOLF.**

**Fang: And I'm a mutant. Top that.**

**Tobias: I'm Divergent, punk.**

**Tucker: I'm a techno-geek. HA.**

**Danny: I'm half ghost. BEAT THAT.**

**Gale: I'm a hunter. Hear me roar.**

**Vlad (Tod): I'm half vampire AND the subject of a prophecy that says that I can mind-control almost anyone. So WHAT.**

**August: I'm the Prince of thornes and the subject of a prophecy that says that I'll rule the world and make sure that light prevails. And I'm older than all of you, and I'll live longer (I'm eighteen, and I'll probably live to three hundred). So. Freaking. INYOFACEEEES. **

**Percy: Crap. You guys are all awesome stuff. My dad's just the god of the sea, horses, explosions, volcanic eruptions, and earthquakes, and I have all of these powers, including almost complete invulnerability.**

**Me: Percy wins. Sorry, August.**

**August: Juli, have you ever noticed how Percy and I look strangely similar?**

**Me: Nah. You look way more emo. You're like Percy and Vlad Tod's fusion face. :D**

**August: Freaky.**

**Star: I love you, anyway. *kisses on cheek***

**August: *blushes***

**Me: That's a wrap for today's ridiculous author's note. Sorry. I was bored.**

**Percy: REVIEW!**

**August: He stole my line. HE STOLE MY LINE.**

**Me: Autumnia dies in the middle of the series.**

**August: *bursts into angsty and sorrowful/ angry tears* MY SISTER! HOW COULD YOU KILL HER?! *sobs in emo corner***

**Me: Star, go kiss him.**

**Star: *blinks* Well, okay, I guess.**

**Percy: *whispers* revieeeeeeeeewww.**

**Me: *whispers* thanks, percyyyyy.**


	3. Chapter 3

Let me rephrase that.

First I screamed, but my mouth was closed.

Then I screamed because I screamed, more or less.

Okay, this is making no sense, so let me give it to you straight.

There was a dude.

In my room.

_Who looked almost exactly like me_.

He screamed.

And at first, I thought I was screaming, because he sounded just like me.

Then I saw him.

And I screamed.

Okay. Now that I've explained that clearly enough to you, I can move on.

The dude stumbled backward and fell on his rear, hyperventilating. At the same time, I scrambled backward on my bed and hyperventilated, too.

_This is not happening, this isn't happening, this just freaking isn't happening….. _

We stared at each other, wide-eyed. He literally looked exactly like me, but his hair was white as snow, and his eyes were a bright green.

We stayed that way for about five minutes. He was the first to speak.

"Wh- Who are you?"

"Who are _you_?" I echoed.

"Why are you in my house?"

_His_ house? What the freak? "Why are _you_ in _my_ house?"

"Stop copying everything that I say!" He growled in frustration.

I rolled my eyes, just as irritated. "Stop asking questions that I'm about to ask!"

We glared at each other for another while. Then the dude stood up and floated- yes, his feet left the ground, folks- over to me.

He picked me up by a fistful of my shirt and threatened, "If you don't leave right now, I'll make sure that your thoughts aren't ever coherent again."

Pushing aside the fear that had begun to grow, which was now replaced by anger, I pried his hand from my shirt and fell a few inches from the ground, landing on my feet.

I straightened my posture, something I'd learned back in New York. Usually, it subconsciously intimidated people. This kid- or whatever he was- could use some intimidation.

"Whatever you are, _you_ had better leave _our_ house," I demanded.

For a second, he might've looked scared. His eyes did widen, and he did shrink back a little bit.

But then he mimicked my stance, and his eyes glowed an even brighter green than before. The situation flipped again, and now _I_ was the scared one.

"_Your_ house? I've lived here since I _died_." He growled. "I'm not bluffing when I say that I'll morph your thoughts into insanity. Leave. _Now_."

_Since I died. _Again, what the freak was that supposed to mean?

It then hit me that, if I ignored our identical faces and his ability to levitate, the dude was probably a lunatic. Mom and I would get the occasional wack job knocking on our window, rambling on about ducks, runny noses, and space aliens. Despite the fact that Amity was a small town, there could just as easily have been a few psychos hanging around.

I took a deep breath and raised my hands in innocence. "Of course. Sorry to bother you. As a matter of fact, I'll call some help to get us moved out."

I was about to run down the stairs and over to Mom to notify her of the nutcase in my room, but the dude grabbed my hoodie as I ran past him and set me down in front of him again, anger practically rolling off of him in waves.

"I'm not a psycho," he snarled at me. "This house. Belongs. To me."

Okay. He was deranged, but smart.

"I totally get that. I just can't lift this bed alone." I shrugged innocently.

He glowered at me some more before lifting me up again and carrying me to my window. He opened it and held me outside of it, over the hard concrete two stories down.

"I know that you don't believe me. This is your last chance," he warned.

A fall like that wouldn't kill me, but I'd definitely break something. Considering what little money we had, it wouldn't be a good thing at all to get a hospital bill at this point.

When I said nothing, he loosened his grip. I started to fall, but he caught me again.

"Dang it, Clockwork," he muttered. Then he pulled me back inside and made sure that I was facing him.

"Sorry," he said reluctantly. "I shouldn't have done that. We can peacefully coexist in this house."

Yup. This dude had totally cracked.

"That's wonderful," I said with a forced smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go tell my Mom that we're not alone."

He held out an arm, blocking my path. "I am _not_ crazy," he insisted. "I'm just…a ghost."

Okay. That was it. "_Mom_!"

He clapped a hand over my mouth, his eyes wide with fear and glowing with anger.

However, Mom still heard me. Within a few seconds, she was opening my door.

"Yes, Danny?"

_Oh, thank God._

"Mom, there's this-"

The guy wasn't there.

What. Just happened.

"Danny? There's this what?"

I looked in shock at the empty space next to me. Where could he have possibly hidden so quickly?

I looked back to my Mom and forced a smile (for the third time that day). "Nevermind. Just, uh, thought I heard something weird."

Mom gave me a curious look, but shook her head and shut the door behind her.

The guy appeared next to me, smirking.

"Toldya I wasn't crazy," he gloated.

"That doesn't prove anything," I said back.

"Does this?"

He flew backward, did a flip in the air, and landed on his feet. He then held out his hand, which burst into green flames that didn't spread and died as quickly as they'd come. Then he walked through the wall and came back, lying down in mid-air. And, to top it all off, he sprinkled snowflakes on my head out of nowhere.

Okay. So he wasn't psychotic.

"That proves it," I said in shock.

He landed in front of me and gave me a smug grin.

"I thought it might."

I stared at him for another while before regaining my wits. "Okay. You're a ghost."

"We have officially established that," he said, rolling his eyes.

"You're a ghost."

"Yes, yes_, I am a ghost_."

"But- how?"

"I died, and my spirit separated from my body."

"Well, why do you look like me? Why are you even haunting this house? And how are your clothes all modern? Why didn't you drop me? What-"

He clapped his hand over my mouth again. I suddenly realized how freezing cold his skin was.

"That, my friend, is your limit of questions for today. And honestly? I only know the answer to two of them. Clockwork takes my clothes straight from the factories, and when I was about to drop you, he penetrated my brain and told me not to." He gave me a condescending look, like I was a little kid who was asking too many stupid questions.

I pried his hand from my mouth and asked, "Who's Clockwork?"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Ghost of time, my long-distance guardian/mentor, and, apparently, a pacifist."

"And that would mean….?" I seriously had no idea what this dude was talking about.

He shook his head. "Never mind. Right now, all that you need to know is that I'm a ghost. According to Clockwork, I own this house as much as you do. You can't let your mom see me, or she'll either die from a heart attack or call someone to exterminate me. And- _please_- stop asking questions."

"So let me get this straight. You're a ghost. We both own this house. Mom can't see you, or something bad will happen. Is that right?"

He nodded. "Pretty much."

Okay. I'd had enough.

I grinned and shook his hand. "Well, it was nice meeting you, dude, but, uh, I don't think that I can really take this. It doesn't seem for the fainthearted, and that's pretty much my general description. See ya."

I began to walk away, but my look-alike grabbed me by the hoodie again. I was about to tell him to let go, but when I turned around his eyes were glowing a deep violet rather than green.

His voice now sounded like a soft, aged man's voice that drifted around the room like mist.

"Danny. You cannot leave yet, young boy. You and this ghost must work together in order to survive. Leave now, and both your life and his afterlife fall, and with them will fall the Earth. Before you moved to this town, your fates were twined. They will forever remain so."

The dude blinked, and then collapsed on the blue carpet in a heap. I was left staring at him with my jaw hitting the floor, wondering what the freak just happened.

**\*/**

"Dang it, Clockwork," he muttered when he came to a few minutes later. He glanced at me, his eyes green again. "So….that wasn't exactly Clockwork, but that was pretty much what he's like. He kind of, uh, took over my consciousness. Sorry about that. But now you see what I mean."

"Uh-huh," I muttered, still trying to wrap my head around what had just happened.

"So your name's Danny?"

"Hm?" My focus went back to my look-alike when he said my name. "Oh. Yeah. What's yours?"

"Phantom."

"First name?"

He shrugged. "None. I've always been just Phantom. Clockwork named me that."

"Didn't you have a name when you were human?" As if things weren't already confusing enough.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure that I did. But I can't remember anything prior to being a ghost, not even my death. Weird, huh?" He scratched the back of his neck in the exact same way that I did whenever I was working out a strange situation.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Well, uh, I'd better get to bed. Mom'll kill me if I fall asleep in class on the first day."

Phantom nodded. "Yeah. We can try to sort this crap out later. Have a good rest."

With that, he disappeared again, and the room felt way warmer.

I fell asleep wondering how my life had gone from completely normal to fully supernatural within the span of ten to twenty minutes.

**\*/**

**A/N:**

**And thus, Danny and Phantom meet! :DDD**

**So….next chapter contains Danny's first day at Casper High!**

**And, btw, this story starts when December begins, so basically, it's "happening" right now.**

**And thx to those that review! I love reviews; they tell me how I'm doing as a writer in general.**

**That's all I have to say for today. Ciao! **


	4. Chapter 4

At school the next day, I had a map in front of my nose for about half of the morning, trying to find my locker and then my first period class.

"So I make a right down the D hallway, and then…..no, that can't be right," I muttered to myself.

"You lost?" A voice asked.

I lowered the map from my face. In front of me stood a Black dude about my age. He was about as skinny as me, and a little bit taller. He had greenish-blue eyes that were framed by thick, nerdy black glasses, and he wore an old red 1920's beret worn backwards on his head. He reminded me of a traffic light, because at the top was the red beret, in the middle was his mustard-yellow turtleneck, and with those he wore forest-green cargo pants, thus creating the traffic light pattern.

Despite his questionable getup, he seemed pretty friendly, and I could use some directions. "Uh, yeah, actually," I answered. "Do you know where locker 623 is?"

He grinned and nodded. "It's right next to my first period. You can walk with me."

I grinned back. Finally, someone who wasn't a whore, had emotion, wasn't super-cheerful, and wasn't a ghost.

As we walked, he said, "The name's Tucker, by the way. Tucker Foley."

"Cool name," I replied honestly. "I'm Danny Fenton."

His grin, impossibly, widened. I couldn't help but widen my smile a bit, too. The guy's attitude was contagious.

That is, until I ran straight into what felt like a brick wall.

I looked up, and it might as well have been.

Towering over me stood a huge, buff dude in a black T-shirt and a red-and-white letterman jacket. His hair was light blonde and in a buzz cut, and his eyes were a grayish-blue. And he didn't look too happy.

As I looked from his face to his jacket, I could now tell why. I guess that he'd been holding some soda or something, because there was now a fresh purple stain on it.

"Oh," I said, backing away. "Uh, sorry. I didn't mean to-"

He gripped me by a fistful of my back-and-white Yin-Yang shirt, the same way that Phantom had last night. A part of me worried that the collar was going to be forever stretched out, but most of me worried about my face getting forever beaten to a pulp.

He growled, "You're gonna pay for this."

I know that I should've been focusing on more pressing matters, but _jeez, _his breath stank. Really, really badly.

"Dude, if you needed a breath mint," I choked, "you just had to ask."

He pulled his fist back. "That's it."

I braced myself for the punch, but, strangely, found none.

I opened my squeezed eyes and looked down. Next to the hulking muscle-brain was probably the most gorgeous girl I'd ever seen.

She had waist-length, wavy, dark brown hair with hints of red in it, flawless tan skin, icy blue eyes that stared at me with curiosity, and pink-glossed lips that matched her pink hairclips, pink flats, and pink halter top.

Honestly? She could've been a model.

"Dash," she said in a pretty voice outlined with a Spanish accent, "don't go picking fights again."

The mindless muscle-dude- Dash, I guess (there was seriously someone named Dash?)- lowered me slightly.

"But he-!" He gestured to his stained letterman jacket.

The chick smiled sweetly at him. Oh, God. I'm pretty sure that my heart just melted.

"Don't hurt the poor boy. It wasn't his fault. Was it?" she asked, turning to me.

I stood there for a while, pretty shocked that she actually talking to me. Then I realized what an idiot I was making of myself, and I shook my head, finding the power to speak.

"Uh- no. It, uh- it wasn't."

"See? Put him down." Dash reluctantly set me down and scowled at the girl.

"Next time, I'm not listening to a word you say."

She smiled ruefully. "I guess I've used up my charm cards, then, huh?"

Dash didn't answer, instead turning away from us.

The girl came over to me and straightened out my shirt. "Sorry about Dash. He has a bit of a temper."

"Uh- …oh. Um, no it was fine. I, uh- I'm used to getting punched in the face on a regular basis."

_Dang, why did I say that?_

To my immense surprise, she giggled. Wow, she was cute…..

"-your name?"

I snapped back to reality. "I'm sorry?"

She giggled again. "I'm Paulina. What's your name?"

"Danny," I answered.

"Hm." She tapped her chin thoughtfully, as if contemplating something, then smiled again. "I'll see you later, Danny."

"Uh, see ya, Paulina," I stammered back. She turned and left.

"Dude," Tucker said, coming up behind me. "She just- you just- _dang!_"

He held out his hand for a high-five. I high-fived him and asked, "Who was that?"

"Like she said, her name's Paulina Sanchez. Hottest girl at school. Not too smart, but her looks cover up everything."

"No kidding."

"You're one lucky dude. She's totally into you."

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

I grinned, unbelieving. "No way."

Tucker rolled his eyes and grabbed me by the arm. "Come on, lover-boy," he chuckled. "Don't want to be late for class."

I followed him, still dumbstruck. Wow. Just…wow.

**\*/**

Tucker and I ended up having most of the same classes; the only two that we didn't have together was chemistry and literature. By some magic miracle, I met two other people of interest in those two classes without him.

In chemistry, I was paired up with a girl named Valerie Grey.

She was extremely pretty in a natural way, with clear hot-chocolate-colored skin, dark-chocolate-brown curls that she pushed away from her face with a tangerine headband, large aqua-green eyes, and full lips that showed no hint of lipstick or gloss.

Before I could begin to drool over her, however, she gave me this look, like _do NOT mess anything up, or I'll personally dismember you._

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and sat down next to her.

She told me everything that they'd learned in class so far throughout the year, making sure that I was caught up. I listened to everything she said, getting the vibe that if I didn't, she'd probably strangle me.

Then we began on the lab, and she did most of the work. I was stuck with recording everything that happened, and she kept on correcting me anyway, so I was pretty much useless.

The teacher- Mr. Summers- came over to our table and gave Valerie and I a congratulatory smile. "Good work, Miss Grey and Mr. Fenton," he said.

I didn't dare to smile, for fear of Valerie pulling out a knife and stabbing me to death, but she smiled sweetly. "Thanks, Mister Summers. Danny's doing pretty well for a new student."

Mr. Summers grinned back. "That's wonderful to hear. You two will make a great pair."

As he walked away, surprisingly, Valerie smiled at me. "Good work."

Okay. Bipolar much?

As if reading my thoughts, she said with a radiant smile, "Sorry about scaring you earlier. I just…..I'm a little obsessive when it comes to education. I hate failure."

"Oh." I allowed myself to grin back. "Did you really mean it when you said that I was doing pretty good?"

"Well, yeah. You weren't positively perfect, but you catch on quickly."

I sighed, relieved. "Thanks. I was worried for a second that you might hit me with a candlestick or something."

Valerie laughed, shaking her head. "Nah. More like strangle you with a rope."

We both laughed at that, and then proceeded to do our work for other classes. Well, technically, Valerie did the studying and organizing and stuff. I doodled on the cover of my notebook.

When the bell rang, she flashed me another smile. "Do you want to sit with me at lunch? Unless you have your own plans, that is."

I nodded vigorously. "Yeah, of course. Just wave me over when you see me."

Her grin widened, and she nodded. "I'll see you then."

"See ya then."

As we went our separate ways, I couldn't help but compare how things were going here at Casper High to how they had gone at my house. To put it short, it was better. A _lot_ better.

That is, until entered my Literature class.

**\*/**

"Daniel Fenton," the bald, out-of-shape teacher that I assumed was Mr. Lancer muttered. He looked from his roster to me and pointed to the back of the room. "You'll have a seat by Miss Manson."

I dearly hoped that he hadn't just said Manson. I hoped so with all of my being.

I looked next to my designated seat. Oh, joy. He _had_ said Manson.

Sam's expression was totally blank, but her amethyst eyes flashed at me from behind her bangs, so I knew that she was silently warning me not to say a word to her.

I didn't even nod, instead calmly sitting in my seat. In my peripheral vision, Sam seemed not exactly happy, but…..relieved, weirdly enough. Oh, well. None of my concern.

I tried to ignore the curious eyes on me from around the classroom, instead pulling out my Literature journal and jotting notes down as Mr. Lancer rambled on. He made a few sarcastic, kind of scary comments as he was lecturing that only a few people out of the class seemed to get, but other than that he was pretty normal for a teacher.

I was doing fine until he paired us up.

"Okay, class, because half of our textbooks have gone God-knows-where, you will have to share with at least one other person. I'll give you your partners."

As he said the names, I silently prayed that it wouldn't be Sam, not Sam, not Sam, not Sam…..

"….Samantha Manson with Daniel Fenton…."

Ah, crap.

I turned to her. She wasn't taking it any better than I was. As a matter of fact, her eyes were wide, and her lips were slightly parted.

Huh. So she had some form of emotion after all.

Her hand shot in the air when Mr. Lancer finished pairing people up.

He turned to her. "Yes, Samantha?"

"May I work separately?"

"No, Samantha. We won't put that burden on Daniel."

The look that Sam gave me screamed, _Say something or die here and now._

Immediately, my hand shot up.

"Yes, Daniel?"

"I wouldn't mind being in a group of three."

"But it would corrupt the system," Mr. Lancer sighed, giving me a disapproving look- as if this was all my fault. "I'm afraid not, Daniel."

Sam's face turned into a scowl, and she shook her head, passing the textbook beneath her desk to me.

"You'd really fail a class to get me to leave you alone? Jeez, what did I do wrong?" I glanced at her uncertainly.

"It's not _you_," she snapped. "I just don't like working with people in general."

"But Jazz said that she and you get along so well." Okay. Maybe I was pushing my luck, but my commentary works faster than my brain.

Sam's face lost the scowl temporarily. "Well….yeah, we-" she turned back to me, and the scowl returned. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with."

She quickly scooted her desk to mine and speed-read the selection. I usually got to about a paragraph before she'd turn the page again.

Within ten minutes, she was done. She hastily scooted away from me again and took a deep breath. Her expression smoothed out again, and she didn't glance at me for the rest of the period.

I got to read half of the selection before the bell rang, and Sam was gone in a flash of dark clothes and fair skin.

**\*/**

Valerie, Tucker, and I got a table to ourselves, surprisingly. The cafeteria wasn't super-huge, and there were a lot of kids at Casper High, but everyone made it a point to avoid us.

Well. There went about half of my self-esteem.

Valerie had brought her own lunch: a PB and J sandwich, a bottle of water, a bag of baby carrots, and a bag of apple slices. Tucker and I had bought a cheeseburger from the school kitchen, as well as a chocolate shake and a bag of Funions.

"So Danny," Valerie said as she bit a carrot, "where're you from?"

"New York," I answered.

"Why'd you move here?"

"Mom wants a 'new start'," I said, using finger quotation marks for the words _new start_.

"You didn't want to leave?" Tucker asked, interested.

I shook my head. "But I'm here now, and everything else is pretty much irrelevant."

"Hm." Val moved on from her carrots to her apples slices. "What's your favorite subject?"

Immediately, I answered, "Astronomy. I mean, I know that I don't have it as a class or anything, but I've always wanted to be an astronaut."

Tucker nodded, slightly interested but mostly preoccupied by something. Valerie, on the other hand, was intrigued. "Wow. Really?"

I nodded. "It's just…..have you ever wondered what mysteries lie in the unknown of the universe, what questions could be answered in unsolved mysteries? Space is seriously one of the biggest mysteries of all. I mean, there could be actual space aliens, other societies outside of Earth, alternate worlds- the possibilities are endless."

Valerie nodded, still super-interested. "I've never thought of it that way, but you have a point. You're really willing to do stuff like venture into black holes, leave the galaxy- stuff like that?"

I nodded, grinning. "It sounds stupid, reckless, and dangerous, but imagine the things that we could find. There could be a cure for cancer on Neptune, or some creature whose fluids can heal any injury within seconds outside of the Milky Way." I took another bite of my cheeseburger, my mind reeling.

Valerie laughed. I must have had some kind of facial reaction to this, because when she saw my face she backtracked. "Oh, no, I don't think it's stupid at all. It's actually pretty genius. I'm just laughing at myself for not holding on to these possibilities. When I was little, I thought of the same things that you're talking about. I'd thought that they were childish thoughts, like believing in unicorns, but now that you put it this way, it occurs to me that they're actually the truth. Anything is possible. Even unicorns."

"Even unicorns," I agreed, nodding and grinning. I was about to go on, but Tucker nudged me.

"Dude….Paulina's waving at you."

Immediately, my gaze went from Val to the A-list table (as Tucker called it), where Paulina was, in fact, smiling sweetly at me and wiggling her fingers in a waving gesture.

My philosophical thoughts about the Universe turned to sand in my brain, and all I could really think about was how just freaking _gorgeous_ she was. I couldn't get over it; it knocked the breath out of me every time.

I suddenly realized that I was supposed to wave back. I did (with a scoop of extra dumb on top), and Paulina giggled and turned back around.

God, she was gorgeous. Just…ah.

And then, out of nowhere, a lunchbox hit my head.

"_AH_!"

I rubbed the back of my head, where I was sure there was going to be a knot in the morning, and picked up the stupid metal lunchbox, which was shaped like a bat.

I looked around for the jerk that had thrown it at me, ready to throw it right back.

You can imagine my _surprise_ when I found Sam Manson glaring at me a few tables down, an expectant look in her eyes.

I rolled my eyes and opened the lunchbox. Inside was a folded piece of paper.

I unfolded it. It read:

_Danny-_

_Not that I care, but you're falling down a python's throat by falling for Paulina. She acts all sweet, and then out of nowhere, she'll break your heart. I'd be more careful if I were you._

_-Sam_

_P.S. Again, I don't care about your personal feelings, so don't get your hopes up. I just hate her in general, and I'll probably go ballistic if she tears out yet another guy's heart. So listen to me. Or do things the hard way. It's honestly your choice._

I looked back at her, but she was already out of the cafeteria.

Of course, seeing how Sam wanted no part in my life whatsoever, I didn't even really heed her warning. As if someone as nice as Paulina Sanchez- who not only saved me from getting my face caved in, but also actually _waved to me from across the cafeteria_- could play me in the way that Sam was indicating.

I then decided that maybe it _was_ best that I completely ignored Sam Manson.

**\*/**

"Oh, wow. You're back?"

"Yes, Phantom. Kids tend to come back from school."

"Huh. I'd thought that you'd have been killed by lunch."

"Killed?" I glanced at my look-alike, who was lying on his back in mid-air, incredulously. "By what, spit ball- shooting ninjas?"

"Nah." Phantom shook his head. "Stupidity, lies, murderous plots, puberty, homework, hideous teachers, and general angst."

"Ah. Well, I almost did die, thanks so much."

"By which?"

"None of the above. Just this girl. Three girls, actually."

"Ooooooooh, girls." Phantom grinned and wiggled his eyebrows in a really, really stupid way. "Do tell, do tell."

"It's none of your business, Phantom," I said with a roll of my eyes.

"Well, of course it is! I, Phantom Phantom-"

"Phantom Phantom?"

"Yes, Phantom Phantom. I, Phantom Phantom, am a master with the ladies."

"You're a ghost." I said with a deadpan stare.

He nodded cheerfully. "Yup. I am. And I'm also a love expert. So come, child, tell your freakishly similar-looking ghostly friend of these girl issues."

Deciding that Phantom was enough of a weirdo to be persistent about this, I just sighed and told him.

"Well, the first two- Valerie and Paulina- are great, but there's one named Sam…."

**I needed to post this, and I'm at fifteen pages already, so you'll have to check out Phantom and Danny's little chat next chaptah. **

**And yes, his name is Phantom Phantom. **

**Deal with it.**

**So, as I predicted, this story is soooooo much fun to write. I already want to start the next chapter. But I need to circulate my fanfics. I need to update the other fun one- Heart of Gold- and then Where Butterflies Never Die, and then PHANTOM, then Evanescent, then Haunted, and back to this one. So, uh, fun, then angst, then more angst, then deep, philosophical sorrow, then romance, and then fun again.**

**Oh, how my mind works.**

**Btw, I have yet ANOTHER idea in mind (I know- I'm horrible). **

**So, quick question.**

**Would it be worth waiting for the others to update for an even longer time if you read the fic accompanying this summary?**

_He didn't look like us, didn't think like us, but he had a strong heart and nowhere to rest it. That is why I took him in and raised him as the next Master of Time._

_It all went awry when he finally discovered his origins- and a girl to walk him through it all._

_He's fallen for her. My end is near, and Time will fall apart if he doesn't remember who he is. The world will be in worse than pandemonium if he does not remember his responsibility. Everyone's fate will simply die if he does not accept his._

_But even I, Clockwork, current Master of Time am at a loss when it comes to who he truly is._

_He is not human. He is not ghost. He is not one of my kind._

_The answers to who Phantom truly is lie within the lock of his own heart._

_And thus far, no one has been able to find the key to suck a lock._

**Ahem. Yeah. SUPER dramatic.**

**Anyway, tell me what you think in your review or in a PM, pwease. :D**

**And- oh yes. **

**Personified Stitch?**

**Stitch: What? I, uh- I wasn't doing anything.**

**Me: Stitch, it's me. I KNOW you. **

**Stitch: I miss having four arms. And being able to pick my nose with my tongue.**

**Me: You're still able to do that.**

**Stitch: Really?! Cool! *picks nose with super-long tongue***

**Me: You are the only one who can make that cute. Seriously. The only one.**

**Stitch: *pulls tongue back in* REVIEW! (And send me some sunglasses, while you're at it. Nani confiscated my last ones.) (And Lilo, if you're reading this, I've been a good boy. Erase the red on the chart-thingy. And get me a new surfboard. I bit the other one. Thanks.)**

**Me: You heard the cute, personified alien. **

**Stitch: *grins widely, revealing sharper-than-normal canines and dimples***

**Me: :'DD YOU HAVE DIMPLES AS A HUMAN! KAWAII!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Sam?" Phantom interrupted.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Sam.

"Last name?"

"Manson."

"Hm."

A look overtook Phantom's face- one of deep thought (hey, I guess it's possible after all). But, before I could even begin to wonder why Phantom would think so deeply (hallelujah, another miracle!) about Sam's name, his goofy expression returned.

"Go on, my freakishly similar-looking friend, your freakishly similar-looking ghostly friend is here to listen and do nothing else but."

I rolled my eyes at his stupid fake accent- what was it supposed to be in the first place, British?- and continued, "So, yeah. Sam Manson, Valerie Gray, and Paulina Sanchez."

As I told him about my day, he listened intently, making stupid expressions once in a while when I paused to see if he wasn't just being a dork at that point. He'd say something like, "Do tell, do tell," or "by jove! The fiend!" (Although why the heck he said that when I told him that the cafeteria served decent food, I'll probably never figure out.)

When I finally finished, he looked up, thinking. He may have looked just like me, but right then his face seemed too innocent, too immature to look like mine. I'm not saying that I'm super-mature or anything, but his mouth twisted up and his eyes moved upward as he folded his arms and tapped his finger against his lower lip, like mine used to when I was a little kid.

Finally, he remarked, "I think that you should go after Sam."

I looked at him to see if he was joking. He wasn't even smirking.

"Were you listening? At all? Like, even for a few seconds?"

Phantom nodded, all serious. "Yeah, I was. Sam seems like she's pretty cool; you should go after her."

"WHY?!" I screeched. "She's emotionless- scratch that. She's totally devoid of feeling unless it's hatred or bitterness, she's trash-talking Paulina, who saved my face from turning into a pile of mush-"

"- looks like that to me, anyway-"

"We look like each other, moron! Anyway, she _hates_ me- and for no reason, by the way- and she specifically asked me not to acknowledge her existence!"

Phantom nodded. "Yeah, I caught all of that earlier," he assured me. "But…do you really know her? At all? I say you should give her a chance- a _real_ one."

I snorted. "_Maybe_, Phantom- just maybe- she really wants nothing to do with me. And _maybe _she's made that totally clear in the few days that I've known her."

"_Maybe_, Danny, she's not all that bad," Phantom countered.

"_Maybe, _Phantom, she has some kind of a grudge against Paulina, and she doesn't want to see her happy. _Maybe _she doesn't want anyone to be happy!"

"_Sam isn't like that_!" Phantom snapped. Then he seemed to realize what he'd just said, and he sank to the floor, green eyes looking away, cheeks blazing red.

"Do you know her?" I asked, my frustration toning down a bit.

"No," Phantom muttered.

"You can't lie to your look-alike, Phantom. I can read all of your expressions like I can read mine. Your right pinky twitches slightly when you lie."

Phantom glared at me, shoving his hands into the pockets of his emerald-green hoodie. "Fine. I know her. Can we not talk about it?"

"But how-"

"Drop. The subject, Fenton." He continued to glower at me, the painful bright green of his eyes breaking my resolve.

"Fine," I said with a roll of my eyes. I stared at my ceiling and closed my eyes, clenching my jaw.

If only doppelgangers could read minds. Something told me that I'd have everything figured out already.

**\*/**

"So, how was your first day of school?" Mom inquired.

I shrugged. "It was okay, I guess. Made a few friends, did my classwork, the usual." For the most part.

"Hm." Mom nodded unconvincingly, as if sensing that I wasn't telling her the whole truth.

Gosh dangit, how did she do that? I wanted to telepathically tell her, _Mom, there is nothing going on in my brain that you need to think about, so stop doing that whole I'm-your-mother-and-I-can-sense-your-emotions-through-the-Force thing and go on a shopping spree like a normal mom._

Thankfully, however, she didn't press. That's one of the great things about Mom: she knows what I'm not saying, but she never asks me to say it.

"So, uh, how was work?" I thought about what I'd asked and added, "What's your job, anyway?"

"Oh." Mom took a bite of her hot dog, and then a swig of her Ginger Ale. "How badly do you want to know?"

I shrugged. "Depends. How important is the fact?"

She shrugged, too, her mouth tightening in that way that it did when she was nervous. "Not super important," she lied.

"Mom. Come on."

She rolled her eyes, sighing. "Fine. Promise you won't freak out?"

"Your son gives his word."

She wiped her mouth and leaned back in her chair, looking up at me with her violet eyes.

"I'm a ghost hunter."

**\*/**

**SO SO SO sorry about the slow update and the short chapter, but I have to go to bed pretty soon, and I've been having a crappy week.**

**Pwease forgive me.**

**Tankyou. 3**


	6. Chapter 6

That night, I had a really, really weird dream.

Considering the really, really weird twist my life had taken then, I wasn't really surprised.

I was staring into a mirror. My reflection wasn't me; it was Phantom.

He didn't look like his usual goofy self. As a matter of fact, he looked scared, for once. His eyes were glowing with emotion, wide open, and he was trying to bang against the inside of the mirror, his mouth moving, but no words coming out.

"Phantom?" I asked, my voice echoing throughout the white, endless room that I was in. I took a cautious step forward, placing my hand on the cold glass. He desperately lined up his fingers with mine, his breathing heavy, his white hair disheveled.

"What's going on?" I asked, narrowing my eyes in confusion.

"He needs you," and old man's voice boomed.

"Clockwork?" I wheeled, but found no one there. The only trace of the strange, unseen ghost was the faint sound of ticking.

"He needs you, Danny. And you need him."

"He's a ghost. He can take care of himself. And we barely know each other. Why would he need me?"

"You are not two, but one. Not separate, but united. Fate has tied your lives with a secure knot that is impossible to break."

"Can you _please_ give me a direct answer?!" I shouted.

"Heed my warning, Danny," Clockwork continued, suddenly deaf. "You and Phantom have a stronger bond than anyone you know. Let no harm come to the boy, lest you fall with him."

With that, the ticking ceased. I turned, and Phantom suddenly stopped banging, his eyes even wider. He fell to the ground, motionless. Eyes wide open.

My heart lodged in my throat; I could feel myself begin to die, too.

The white room was suddenly enveloped in darkness, and a cold shudder ran through my bones. I fell to my knees, nothing but my hands keeping my torso from falling to the ground.

"So this is the boy, I see," murmured a heavy, scratchy voice. Cold, strong fingers with sharp nails gripped my chin and thrust it upward, puncturing my skin. Blood ran down my neck and dripped onto my shirt. My heartbeat was barely there.

The voice chuckled, a sound that made my hair bristle.

"They'll make the perfect sacrifice."

He let go of my chin, and I began to fall.

***\ * /***

"Danny!"

I woke up, certain that I was a millimeter from death.

Bright green eyes greeted me that morning.

"Phantom…." I croaked. He was honestly the last person I wanted to see after that dream.

"I just had the freakiest dream," Phantom mumbled. "I was trapped in a mirror, asking you for help. You said some stuff, turned around, and said more stuff, but I couldn't hear a thing. Then when you turned around again, I woke up to see you glaring at the insides of your eyelids, super-pale. You alright, man?"

"No," I said honestly. "I had the same dream, but you were the one that didn't say anything, and I was where I was in your dream."

"Weird," Phantom remarked.

"Understatement," I muttered back, deciding not to tell him about Clockwork and all that. I was still really confused about everything; the last thing I needed was for Phantom to flip out when I had no idea what he was flipping out over.

"So, anyway, you were going to tell me about your mom?" He looked at me expectantly.

"Oh, yeah." I'd been up late the night before with chores, so I promised Phantom I'd tell him about Mom's new job when I woke up, right before falling onto the bed and falling asleep.

Just then, however, as I looked at him, bright green eyes wide and expectant, looking way too innocent to be my doppelganger. I remembered my dream. If he'd had the same one, he would flip out if he found out that he really was in danger. He must've felt _some_ kind of frightened feeling. I knew I did.

I also thought back to a few nights ago, when he'd covered my mouth, looking scared at the thought of someone taking him anywhere or doing anything to him. Once more, the last thing I needed was Phantom freaking out, especially since I already had that covered. Maybe it was best if….

"She's a lunch lady now."

Phantom grimaced. "Lunch lady. Now _that's_ a word that brings up bad memories."

"How? I thought you couldn't remember anything from your human life." I stared at him, glad that he had believed me so easily.

Phantom shook his head. "It was something that happened about a year ago. Do _not_ want to talk about it."

"Okay, then." I stood, stretched, and glanced at the clock. "HOLY CRAP, I'M GONNA BE LATE!"

"I'll fly you," Phantom said breezily. "Shouldn't be a problem."

I glared at him. "Sure, let's do that and have everyone stare as I enter. Or, possibly, let you drop me by accident when you spot an ice cream shop."

Phantom raised his hands in innocence. "Just an offer," he muttered. "And only the ice cream shop thing would be a problem. We'd have to take a detour, in that case."

I didn't reply, too into my rush to do focus on anything other than getting ready for school. I yanked off my Yin-Yang shirt and faded blue jeans- which I had failed to replace with pajamas before crashing the night before- and replaced those and my boxers with new articles of clothing: a clean pair of boxers (of course), another pair of hand-me-down faded blue jeans, and a white T-shirt that read in black letters:

**My Law of Inertia states that if I'm at rest I'd better stay at rest, unless you're planning to be hit with an outside force.**

I pulled on and laced my red sneakers, tugged on my red hoodie, and raced down the stairs, backpack slung on my shoulder. I ran to the kitchen, grabbed an uncooked (and half-eaten- I guess Mom was in a rush, too) Pop-Tart from the counter, and began to run out the door when I was lifted from the ground, suddenly. I looked up and, sure enough, there was Phantom.

"_Dude_!" I shouted, glaring up at him in shock and anger.

"Quiet down, Danny," he said, chuckling- as if I wasn't mad enough. "Do you want to wake the whole town?"

I closed my eyes and didn't open them, not even when a sudden, freezing chill filled my entire body.

"_What are you _doing?!" I hissed, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"We're invisible. And, in case I crash-"

"Crash?!" I squeaked.

"Which _isn't_ going to happen, Fenton, we'll just pass harmlessly through without a scratch. You probably feel really cold now, right? That explains it."

"It's creepy," I said with a shudder. "How do you live like this?"

Phantom snorted. "Dude, this is the _life_. Do you know how many people I troll on a daily basis? How amazing this view is when the light hits it perfectly? How much fun it is to watch over the people of this town, without anyone ever knowing? I just wonder how _you_ can live with so many limits."

"What view?" was all that I could say to that.

"What? You can't see it?"

"No, sorry. I can't see with my eyes closed. It's just a weird thing about me."

"Well open them, retard."

"No thanks."

"What's wrong? You scared?"

"Frankly, yes."

"Of what? Being invisible, being flown to school by a ghost, or being able to pass through solid objects?"

"Heights."

Phantom laughed. "You're kidding, right? Heights are a thing of beauty, Fenton. It's like being afraid of butterflies."

"Those things are creepy, too."

"Whatever. Just open your eyes."

"No."

"Come on."

"No."

"Do it or I'll drop you."

"You can't see me, moron!"

"I can tell. Come on, Danny. Don't be such a coward."

"I'm not cowardly. Everyone has fears."

"Shut up and open the eyes, dude."

"No."

"Drop off in three, two-"

"Gah! Okay, okay!" I opened my eyes, and my heart stopped. We were high above the buildings. _Way_ up high.

I screamed like a little girl.

Phantom laughed way harder than he needed to. When he finally finished, he asked, "So? How's the view?"

"It's making my underwear yellow, Phantom, what do you think? You put an acrophobic two miles from the ground, and you think he's gonna say 'oh, I love how I can totally just fall at any moment and become a mangled corpse on the pavement far below us'?"

"Don't you want to be an astronaut?"

"How did you know that?!"

"You talk in your sleep."

I ignored the horribly-concealed snicker that he released- like he didn't talk in his sleep, too- and answered his question. "Well, yeah. But I won't be flying through the atmosphere via _teenage ghost_ when that happens, so it's really, really irrelevant!"

"Here's our stop!" He shouted suddenly, diving totally downward. My stomach lurched at the sudden acceleration, and I closed my eyes again.

About twenty seconds later, he dropped me behind a tree across the street from Casper High. The cold feeling left, and I turned to him, scowling. "Next time I'm late, don't be a hero."

"You're welcome," he said, grinning. "See you at home."

"See ya," I sighed, rubbing my temples. I crossed the street quickly, and then closed my eyes again. Four days in Amity Park, and I was beginning to develop a migraine due to a ghost version of me that refused to grow up, a neighbor that refused to treat me like a normal person, and now a mom that had gotten a job hunting aforementioned ghost version of me.

I bumped into the brick wall again. I looked up and, sure enough, it was the same wall. Dash.

"Watch it, squirt," he growled. How did a teenager have so many muscles? Was he, like, a part-time bodybuilder or something?

"Excuse me, Great Wall," I replied with a deadpan stare. Then I mentally smacked myself. The chances of Paulina showing up at this point were very slim. And then chances of me escaping were even slimmer.

He shoved me into the actual brick wall near us (there's nothing more touching than family working together) and let his fist fly into a fierce uppercut into my stomach. As I doubled over, he punched me in the face. Oh _God,_ that hurt. I could already feel my face swelling.

He slammed me into the wall one more time before shoving me down onto my side, kicking me, and stepping back. I couldn't move; those few (but freaking _powerful_) blows had knocked everything out of me.

"Next time you ram your sorry *ss into me and then find the balls to say something about it, I'll kick your *ss twice as hard, geek."

I couldn't hear him leave as I passed out.

**\*/**

"Whoa, man, what happened to you?"

Those were the first words I heard as I came to in the nurse's office. At first everything was fuzzy, but then I saw Tucker, staring down at me in concern. Next to him was an even more concerned Valerie.

"Dash" I tried to mutter, but my cheek had completely swelled up, and my mouth felt as if it were filled with sand. It sounded more like "Dath".

"Baxter?" Valerie's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

I pointed at my mouth. "My thtupid big moth."

"You look like crap, dude," Tucker marveled, officially not helping.

"He does not," Valerie argued. "Now, if ya'll will excuse me, I have a quarterback's backside to kick." She began to march out, but Tucker grabbed her shoulder.

"Val, what'll your dad say if you get detention again? Actually, how will you guys deal if the Baxters press charges again?"

"Ogin?" I asked.

"Nothing you should worry about, Danny," Val muttered, staying where she was with a sigh.

Weird. I'd never have pinned Valerie for the type to get into fights. Or, if I was reading hints the rights way, the type to get into a fight and seriously kick the crap out of her opponent when her opponent is very closely related to a brick wall.

"Alright, I'm back," announced the nurse, whom I'd never seen before (due to lack of consciousness). She pointed to my friends. "Grey. Foley. Out. Fenton, get some sleep. I'm still waiting for your mother to pick up the phone."

Tucker nodded and waved at me. "See you, dude."

Valerie waved, too. "See you tomorrow, Danny. And tell me if Dash does something else funny, because I swear-"

"Val," Tucker interrupted.

"Right. Sorry. See ya." The two of them walked out of the room under the gaze of the nurse.

She turned to me. "I don't care what happened or who started it. Go to sleep until your mother arrives."

"Il be owes befowe thea pikths up. I'd be-uh walk home," I said.

"I have no idea what in the name of Casper you just said, Fenton. Get some sleep. Before I call Tetzlaff."

"Who?" I managed to say clearly.

"The gym teacher. If you haven't met her before, consider yourself lucky. Now get some sleep, before I call her."

I rolled my eyes and lay back down. The day before there had been a substitute for gym, so I hadn't met the actual coach. She couldn't have been that bad, could she?

Ah, well. It didn't matter now. My biggest concern was whether or not Mom was going to pick me up before the school closed. Considering how late she had come home the night before, I highly doubted it. Would that mean that I'd have to be driven home by one of the teachers?

I imagined Lancer driving me home, going on about how kittens were adorable until they used their tiny little claws to rake out your eyes and slit your throat. The vision was not only weird, but kind of scary.

Speaking of which, who had brought me here in the first place? Valerie? Tucker? Paulina? Some random passerby? Or, possibly, Phantom? I mean, it wasn't like I'd sleepwalked here. Someone had to have done it. It wasn't that important of a fact, but the question made me curious, nonetheless.

"Fenton, I said _sleep_."

_Sorry Miss Nurse Lady, I'd forgotten to press my "Power Off" button. I'll get right to it._

**\*/**

"Danny?"

My eyes opened (although I hadn't fallen asleep in the first place) at the sound of that Spanish accent hardly touching the_ n_ in my name.

Sure enough, Paulina Sanchez had her hands placed on her thighs as she bent over to get a good look at me. She covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes wide.

"Are you okay? Did Dash do this to you? That big jerk! Do you need anything? Do you want me to talk to him?"

I couldn't help but smile- although it hurt like _crap_- as I answered her, my cheek feeling a bit better. "I'm fine. Well, thath's a lie, but at leathst I can pronouths motht of my wordths right. Bethidethes, like I thaid earlier, I'm uthed to thith. Ith's an everyday thing. No need to worry."

Paulina sat down at the side of the bed, her eyes filled with concern. How Sam managed to hate her, I couldn't imagine. "That Dash," she muttered, angry in the cutest way imaginable. Then she looked back at me and used one hand to smooth my hair. I felt my face turn red.

"You know," she began with a smile, "even though I'm angry with Dash, I can't help but think that you look really cute with a bruised face. You look tough," she remarked with a giggle.

My face turned even redder. "Uh, th-thankth? I'm not thure the lithp helpth."

"The _lithp_ is cute," she giggled again.

"Sanchez, you, too? Leave Fenton alone, before I call Tetzlaff on all of you! Honestly, he isn't much." The nurse glared at Paulina and I as she entered the room. "Here," she said to Paulina, handing her a clipboard. She proceeded to lightly push her out. "Now _leave_, Sanchez."

"Bye, Danny," Paulina called. "See you tomorrow!"

As the nurse sat down- I still hadn't learned her name- she peered over at me from her glasses. "Everyone here seems to have taken a liking to you. I can't see why. You're about as special as my dentures."

_You must work very hard to raise these teens' self-esteem, Miss Nurse Lady. I respect you._

**\*/**

"Fenton, you're leaving."

I sat up immediately, feeling a lot better (though my stomach was still throbbing, my cheek was still purple, and my back was still aching). "Mom?" I called.

"Sorry, sweetheart," a woman's voice sang. "Your mother's still at work, it seems. I'll be driving you home today."

Oh, no.

No. No. No.

_No!_

Why _her_?! Why?!

I swallowed all of these thoughts and looked away from the whore's gaze. "Hi, Miss White," I muttered, horrified. I had to be the unluckiest guy in the world. I _had_ to be.

I carefully stood, trying not to puke (not only from the thought of being stuck in a car with the whore, but my throbbing stomach that I had barely used all day due to Dash's earlier uppercut). Miss White offered her hand, but I shook my head for obvious reasons.

Maybe I should've taken up her offer though, because I stumbled on my sleeping legs and began to fall. Thankfully, someone caught me, grabbing my far shoulder and the hand opposite.

Unfortunately, that someone was Sam Manson.

"You okay?" she asked, her voice not a monotone or angry for once. Her voice was actually pretty cute when she used it normally.

"Um….yeah," I answered. When I forgot about how much she hated me, I could see again how pretty she was. As a matter of fact, if she tried, I was pretty certain that she could rival Paulina.

She scowled suddenly and yanked me upright, leaving the room. "Good," she muttered as she made her exit.

_Nevermind._

**\*/**

"Oh hey, Danny!" Jazz waved cheerfully from the shotgun, her smile bright as ever.

My mood lifted the tiniest bit at the sight of her. True, her optimism was annoying, but so far she was my favorite of our neighbors.

"Hey, Jazz," I replied, waving. I took the seat behind her and sat as far as I could from the opposite window as Sam and the whore entered. "How's it going?"

"Oh, it's great! But, surprisingly, I haven't seen you around school. Isn't that strange?"

"It's a big school," I reminded her.

"That's true. And we_ are_ in different grades, so it makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Guess so."

Sam continued to glare at me from her window, arms folded, eyes flashing. I continued to pretend that I didn't notice, hands folded, eyes averted.

"So Danny," the whore began, "I hear your father died."

I could see what Mom meant by _outspoken_.

"Your mother says you were very young. Do you remember it?"

"No," I lied, hoping she would drop the subject.

"Do you know _how_ he died?"

"Yes."

"I'm curious. You wouldn't mind elaborating, would you?"

"He was robbed and murdered on the street. Any other questions?"

My tone was flat, and I was already beginning to feel more and more depressed.

Of course I remembered my dad dying.

I was there when it happened.

Of course, even hearing my tone, the whore had to continue. "You're sure you don't remember?"

"I don't."

"Not even a little hint of a memory?"

"No."

"What a shame," she sighed. "How old were you?"

"Five."

"Did you know him very well?"

"No." I mean, it wasn't like he'd taken care of me every freaking day since I was born while my mom worked or anything.

"What was his name?"

"Jack. Jack Fenton. And to answer any other questions you might have ma'am, I have his black hair and blue eyes. He was tall and wide, so he filled up the doorway when he walked in. He always told me to dream big. He met my mom in a small town while she was on vacation. He's the one that nicknamed me Danny. He'd tuck me in and read to me every night. He always told me that, even when he wasn't around, he was always by my side, and he'd never stop loving Mom or me. Anything I left out?"

I didn't look at any of them, wiping away all tears that fell from my eyes. I was embarrassed at how my voice had cracked on the last sentence, and how loud my sniffles were in the quiet car.

"Well, Daniel, if you didn't want me to press so hard, you should've said something," Ms. White laughed. "Was your father as spineless as-"

"Shut _up_, Mom! I am so sick of you doing this! He's _crying_, and you have the balls to go on? Just shut the h*ll up already!"

To my surprise, it wasn't Jazz who had snapped, but Sam. I turned to her, wiping my face on my hoodie sleeve again. Her amethyst eyes were still flashing, but way more intensely than they had with me.

Ms. White's face matched her name. She glared into her rearview mirror at Sam. "Samantha, do _not _talk to me that way."

"I'll talk to you however the h*ll I want, since you can't seem to talk to Danny the right way! How would you like it if I told him everything about your slutty past?"

"Samantha!"

"It's no wonder they haven't invited us over lately! Not that I cared, but I was pretty f*cking curious. You just love to take people's scars and rip them open again, huh? Then splash the blood in their face and laugh!"

"Samantha!" Pamela screeched. The car slammed to a stop. She closed her eyes.

"Get out of the car."

"Gladly!" Sam shouted, walking out.

Jazz's eyes were wide. She looked at me in the mirror apologetically.

Pamela looked at me, too, but there was no apology whatsoever in her gaze.

"Thanks for the ride, but I think I can take it from here," I sniffed, leaving, too. "I hope you have a great evening, Miss White. I think you've earned yourself one."

What I was thinking: _Go die in a hole._

After I closed the door, the car sped off, leaving Sam and I alone on the street.

Wait.

What?

**A/N: Super-sorry about the SUPER-slow update! But I've had no inspiration. January does that to you.**

**And, as you can see, I broke my pacing streak. T_T I'm not proud of this chapter. Not at all. Too much happened. I'm disappointed in myself.**

**And I didn't even get to elaborate on Danny's reaction to his mom's job, goshdarnit! What is ****_wrong_**** with me today?**

**But, for consolation to you guys (especially you amazing, amazing, AMAZING people that review), it's a long chapter, hehe. 21 pages long. That's a big deal for me. And there's foreshadowing, drama, a little bit of a backstory, and all of that good stuff.**

**No chat today. All characters are disappointed in me.**

**Ikuto: Not me.**

**Amu: Me, either. **

**Me: GO BACK TO YOUR OWN FANFICTION!**

**Ikuto: But you haven't written a new chapter in forever.**

**Amu: We're getting bored. I've even recovered from the hospital.**

**Me: Shut up, both of you, or I'll give Amu away to another guy and have Ikuto kill himself!**

**Ikuto: You wouldn't!**

**Amu: …**

**Me: I would, Ikuto. And Amu, smart move. Now LEAVE MY PRESENCE! *goes into emo corner and eats fatty foods***

**Ikuto: *mutters* dangit, she's there again. *sweat drop***

**Me: ARE YOU STILL THERE?!**

**Ikuto: *runs away with Amu***

**Me: GOOD.**


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